


Misunderstood

by Haberdasher



Series: Non-TPP Pokemon Fic [4]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Alpha Sapphire, Gen, Nuzlocke Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2811515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story based on my Nuzlocke run of Alpha Sapphire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Missy hated her name. She hated a lot of things about her life, truth be told, but her name was definitely near the top of the list.

It seemed overwhelmingly juvenile to her- maybe it had suited her decently when she was a girl of five or six, but now that she had reached her teenage years, it simply didn’t fit who she now was. It was a nickname, not a real name for a real person. In fact, while she had yet to meet another person who had the same name, her old neighbors had had a Growlithe with that name. And that’s the kind of name it was, she figured- a name meant for a pet, not a person. Maybe that’s all she was to her parents, a mere pet.

And it didn’t lend itself well to nicknames, either. Missy had tried to get her friends to call her M, but no one had gone along with it. She was Missy, and would always be Missy, no matter how much she hated her name.

But perhaps the worst part of her name was that it had been chosen by her father.

Her mother had liked the name Misty, like the Kanto Gym Leader who at the time had been just a young woman, only a few years older than Missy was now. Misty would have been a good name, a _great_ name, infinitely better than the infantile Missy. But her father had objected to naming their child after a Gym Leader in another region, and the two had settled on the name Missy as a “compromise”, since it was only a letter away from her mother’s original choice. But oh, the change of that single letter would have made a world of a difference to young Missy, given her a name that she could grow into, that she could embrace rather than grit her teeth and tolerate!

But of course her father had gotten his way, more or less, when it came to choosing their daughter’s name. He got his way when it came to all of the decisions that guided the family’s life, her life. He got his way when he mandated that Missy would not become a Pokemon Trainer at the tender age of ten, despite all her begging and pleading. He got his way when he decided that they should all move to the middle of nowhere in a region that Missy had barely heard of so that he could finally attain his dream of being a Gym Leader. He’d even gotten his way when he said that Missy should ride along with their belongings in the back of the moving truck rather than going with her mother so that she could made sure none of their possessions got hurt, even when being trapped in such a small space with all those heavy boxes meant that Missy herself (who, she figured, was probably just another possession to them) would stand a substantial risk of getting hurt along the way as well. And her mother just went along with it, grinning and bearing it, never saying a word edgewise and going along with Missy’s father as often as not when the girl pointed out how _unfair _it all was.__

__But they were somewhere else now. Her father would be spending most of his time working in the Gym, not pestering them at home. Moving was supposed to be the start of a new beginning, right?_ _

__Maybe, just maybe, things were about to change for the better._ _

__As she sat in the back of the moving truck, her body being pushed forward and backward with every stop that the vehicle made, Missy crossed her fingers and hoped that her new life in Littleroot Town would allow her just a little more independence, a little more freedom to be who she really was._ _

__She was more than just Missy, daughter of Norman, the new Gym Leader in Petalburg City._ _

__She was…_ _

__Well, Missy wasn’t quite sure who she was, honestly._ _

__But maybe it was time for her to find out._ _


	2. Update 1

As the moving van screeched to a halt, Missy clung for dear life to her old Azurill doll. Her hands brushed against its worn fur, still stuck together in clumps in some spots and torn off entirely in others due to a number of childhood mishaps. Her father had suggested that they throw it away, but that battle, at least, was one he had not won, and for that Missy was immensely grateful.

Missy opened the door in the back of the truck and hopped outside, holding her hand above her head as she looked around to avoid being blinded by the bright light of the Hoenn sun. Littleroot was… well, it was small, but she’d known that. The surrounding forest was kind of pretty, in a humdrum way, and their house was bigger than before, and… it was all so  _boring_. Five seconds of standing in the town, and the teenage girl was already sick of it. She fervently wished that she could be on the airplane that was currently zipping its way across the clouded sky rather than stuck here, in some dinky town in the backwoods of a foreign region, with nothing to do but imagine what might have been.

Missy’s mother was, unsurprisingly, much more optimistic about the situation, not that that said much. Even her mother had to admit that the town was “quaint”, which was polite speak for “nauseatingly dull”, and Missy having a bedroom that didn’t double as her father’s office on the rare occasions that he was actually home wasn’t enough to make up for the fact that there were less houses visible from their front yard than fingers on her hand. Missy wondered how her mother could stand it all the time, how she could ever have  _chosen_ to go along with living a life like this… then the Machokes unloaded the big screen TV, the one on which her father would be displayed time and time again thanks to his fancy new job, and the girl understood how her mother was able to smile through it all.

When given the chore of setting the clock that her father had left for her in her new bedroom, Missy stomped up the stairs, rattling the cardboard boxes still piled up around the house, and swore under her breath as she adjusted the device, even though she knew that it was a task that needed to be done. The fact that her father wanted her to do it was enough of a reason for Missy to want to avoid following through with it on that basis alone.

And then it was “oh, Missy, go visit the new neighbors, the ones your FATHER is friends with!” Nag, nag, nag. Chores, chores, chores. Okay, so she knew she’d need  _some_ kind of companionship if she was going to survive living in this exceedingly dull town, but couldn’t it have come from some people who hadn’t already heard all about her father, and all about what her father thought of her? Couldn’t she have friends who knew her for  _her_ , not for her father?

No. No, of course not. That would make far too much sense. So, off Missy trudged to greet her father’s friends, preparing herself with a smile that felt like it was ripping apart the edges of her mouth.

Meeting Professor Birch’s wife went… as expected. Which is to say, it was filled with lots of greetings and pleasantries and nothing that actually mattered, and something about the woman rubbed her the wrong way, though she had to admit that some of that could have just been her expectations based on their pre-existing connection.

And then Missy met Brendan.

And he was her age and he looked kind of nice and his room was filled with some of the same Pokemon-themed magazines that would soon line the bookshelves in her own bedroom and… and Missy started wondering if, despite it all, maybe she really had found a friend through her mother’s nagging…

"So you’re Missy? I didn’t think you’d be a girl."

Missy sighed. This is why she couldn’t have nice things. She bit her tongue, though she was dying to throw back a retort along the lines of “My name is MISSY you NUMBSKULL how could you NOT THINK I’d be a girl what’s wrong with you???” (Or, more likely, a speech along the same lines at the above, but filled with substantially more swearing.)

Brendan just kept standing there and grinning. Either Missy was getting better at showing restraint when it came to her anger, or Brendan was just hopelessly naive. “I heard that you were a Gym Leader’s kid…” Oh, right. Of course. She’s not just Missy, she’s Missy  _the Gym Leader’s kid_. “…and I was kind of hoping you’d be a boy.”

"You sound like my father." the girl muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing! Nothing…"

"And I guess you don’t have any Pokemon of your own, huh? Well, then, maybe I should catch one for you!"

Missy’s heart skipped a beat.

This boy, this kid she’d barely met, was willing to catch a Pokemon for her, to start the journey that her father had forbidden years ago… With his help, she could get a Pokemon,  _her_ Pokemon, a constant companion, a guardian, a friend…

Maybe this Brendan kid was a little bit of not bad after all.

Brendan’s phone beeped, and he went from looking at Missy to tapping away at it.

"Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be helping Dad with fieldwork… Later, alright?"

Missy barely managed to squeak out a “sounds good” before the boy had already raced down the stairs and out of the house.

She followed his rapid footsteps to the outdoors, not interested in lingering around and making even more small chat with Birch’s wife- no, Brendan’s mother. But Missy didn’t want to go back home yet, either, and she had a feeling that she could use this errand as an excuse to stay outside for a good while still. She opted to stroll around town, see what little there was to be seen, say hello to whoever she happened to bump into, and just enjoy having some alone time in which to think and take it all in.

Those peaceful thoughts were quickly interrupted by piercing cries that rang out from just outside the edge of town.

"Help! Help!"

The girl didn’t have to think twice. She ran towards the sound, willing to be the helped that the voice’s source needed, whatever that entailed. A cry like that meant action, it meant that things were happening, and if that was the case, Missy was more than ready to place herself in the middle of it all.

The scene that greeted her was that of a middle-aged man with brown hair being chased in circles by a Poochyena. The girl started to laugh- sure, Pokemon were dangerous, but a little thing like that couldn’t be enough to harm a full-grown man like him, could it? But as she drew closer, she saw the sharp edges of the Pokemon’s claws and the blood-stained surfaces of its teeth, and Missy had to admit that she too could see that the danger present here was all too real.

As the girl stood there, uncertain of what to do, the Poochyena cornered the man, making him back into a tall pine tree until there was no longer any clear method of retreat.

"In my bag! There’s a Poke Ball!"

Missy sprinted towards the brown messenger bag which the man had gestured to and opened it up, its contents revealed by the gleaming sunlight. He had said that there was a Poke Ball in the bag. Technically, he was right. There was, indeed, a Poke Ball in the bag.

And another one. And another after that.

Missy stared at the three Poke Balls, rubbing her fingertips across their smooth cool surface, thinking of the power that they contained, the beauty of their form, how much research and experimentation had gone into producing these palm-sized spheres that lay in front of her, how many years it had taken to perfect their design…

"Please! Hurry!"

She blinked, her thoughts returning to the here and now.

The Poke Balls had labels, but Missy didn’t bother looking at them as she picked up and threw the one that her fingers had already been resting against. Time was of the essence now. Thinking could come later; this was a time of action.

The Poke Ball opened as it hit the ground. Its contents were shown not only through the sunlight that filled the entirety of the clearing, but also by a new beam of light that emanated from the sphere. To Missy, who saw by this light the very first Pokemon that she would ever command, the light of that Poke Ball appeared downright divine, as if the clouds had parted to illuminate the beautiful figure that the beam revealed.


	3. Update 2

As the light created by the Poke Ball’s opening began to fade, the form of the creature released from it was revealed. It was reptilian and stood on its hind legs, its body a green color that was only a few shades away from that of the surrounding grass and leaves. Missy had read enough Pokemon books, from her father’s dense strategy handbooks to the brightly-colored magazines that her mother had subscribed her to shortly after she first learned to read, to recognize the Pokemon’s species. It was a Treecko, a Grass-type, and a species that was all but extinct in the wild. Where had this defenseless man acquired such a rare Pokemon?  
Missy bit the side of her cheek. This was no time to be speculating about such irrelevant questions. Right now, she had a Pokemon to command and a person to rescue. Right now, what she needed to be recalling was not those ads filled with heart-breaking pictures asking for your money in order to “save the Treeckos”, but the strategies and capabilities that she had poured over in those textbooks with few images and small font.  
This Treecko was obviously young and inexperienced,though how much so, the teenager wasn’t quite certain. What was a move that it would definitely know, that wouldn’t confuse it into inaction at such a crucial moment?  
Missy decided to play it safe.  
"Treecko, use Pound!"  
The Pokemon rammed its hands into the Poochyena, which yelped and backed off, its growling proving to be a futile intimidation tactic. A few hits later, and the Poochyena, bruised and bleeding, fled into the surrounding forest, its victim no longer in danger.  
The man rushed towards the girl. “Thank you so much!”  
She grinned sheepishly, her cheeks warming. “Oh, it was nothing, I was glad to do it…”  
"Nonsense! You saved me back there! Also… I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You must be Missy, right?"  
Missy nodded weakly. “Right in one.”  
"I’m very glad to meet you, Missy. I’m Professor Birch. Now, let’s go talk some more back at my lab, okay?"  
The two meandered back towards town, the Treecko happily trailing behind the humans.  
Upon entering the lab, before Missy had a chance to ask any of the questions that were on her mind, the professor began to speak. “I believe your father told me that you aren’t a Trainer, is that right?”  
Missy nodded, unable to give a verbal response before the professor’s rapid speech continued.  
"Well, I never would have guessed that from how you handled yourself out there! You’re a real natural when it comes to working with Pokemon, just like your father! It’s always wonderful to see such raw talent in somebody so young!"  
"Well, that’s very kind of you to say, professor."  
"I mean it, Missy! You could go far as a Trainer, I can tell! In fact…" The professor paused for a moment and tapped his foot against the lab’s tile floor, dislodging a few small chunks of dirt from his shoe onto the clean white tiles with every tap. "How about you keep that Treecko you just fought with? You two seem like you were meant to work together!"  
Missy’s heart skipped a beat.  
Did this professor know how much that offer meant to her? Did he know how many times she had asked for a Pokemon of her own, how much she had longed for a Pokemon companion over the years?  
Well, probably not.  
But even so, he was giving up one of his own Pokemon- and an incredibly rare Pokemon at that, doubtlessly one of his research specimens- to a near-stranger on a whim, just because he thought that she would like it.  
"Absolutely!" She wondered if her voice sounded as loud as she thought, if he could tell by its tone the sheer immensity of her enthusiasm regarding the offer. Missy took a slow, deep breath and lowered her voice. "I would love to have this Treecko as my first Pokemon, if that’s really alright with you. I would be most grateful."  
The professor gave her a wide smile and handed her the Treecko’s Poke Ball. The Poke Ball felt pleasantly cool and fit perfectly into the palm of her hand, as if it had been meant to end up there from the very moment of its creation. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, my dear. Now, how about you go meet my son Brendan? He’s doing some fieldwork up north of Oldale Town, I believe.”  
"We’ve, uh, actually met already…"  
"Oh, perfect! Then you must know that he knows a great deal about what it means to be a Pokemon Trainer. He can give you some pointers as you start out, and I daresay the journey would be good for you as well. You could probably use to go out and about for a bit after the long ride here."  
"Of course. I’ll go look for him right now, then."  
As Missy began to walk away, Professor Birch waved to her. “Have fun! I look forward to seeing the two of you again later!”  
Missy’s face filled with a wide grin as she shut the door to the lab and returned her Treecko- just the thought of those words, of being able to truthfully say that the Pokemon was her own to command,  _her_ Treecko, made her grin all the wider- to its Poke Ball, skipping merrily as she made her way up north. This was going to be fun.


	4. Update 3

The journey to Route 103 was fairly uneventful; a few quick Pokemon battles, a few pleasantries exchanged with town residents, and Missy found herself standing a few feet away from Brendan, who was frantically scribbling down notes in a thick, dirty notebook.  
"Hey, Brendan, good to see you again."  
Brendan dropped his notebook into his bag and turned to face Missy. "Oh, hey, Missy! Didn't see you there!"  
Missy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I could tell."  
His eyes drifted towards the Treecko, who was still dutifully following behind Missy rather than staying in its Poke Ball, taking out the wild Pokemon who dared to mess with its Trainer. "Dad gave you one of his Pokemon, huh? Darn, I was looking forward to catching one for you..."  
Missy looked in his bag and noticed that he was carrying a number of Poke Balls within it. Maybe the boy had actually been planning on following through on his promise today... well, she might never know for sure now.  
"Yeah, and Professor Birch said I should go meet you so you could teach me 'what it means to be a Pokemon Trainer'. Whatever that means."  
Brendan gave Missy a wide, toothy grin. "Oh, I'm pretty sure that I know  _exactly_  what he meant by that."  
Missy raised an eyebrow. "Really? Do tell."  
Brendan reached for one of the Poke Balls in his bag and threw it to the ground, revealing an orange, avian Pokemon roughly the same size as her Treecko. "It's time for the two of us to have a little Pokemon battle."  
Missy nodded, her grin growing to match Brendan's own. "Alright then. Treecko, use your Pound attack!"  
The Treecko smacked the other Pokemon in the head, prompting a high-pitched cry of pain.  
"You can do this, Torchic! Use your Scratch attack!" Torchic, huh? Another rare Pokemon, another research specimen, one doubtlessly bequeathed to him by his father. And a Fire-type, to boot, making it strong against her Grass-type Treecko. This was going to be an uphill fight.  
The Torchic dragged its claws against the length of the Grass-type's body, leaving shallow but distinct marks where it had hit.  
Missy hesitated, her voice wavering as she called out her next command. "You can still do this, Treecko. Just use Pound on him again, alright?"  
"Hey, what's with that look on your face, Missy? You finally realize that you're in over your head against an expert Trainer like myself?"  
Missy shook her head and chuckled gently. "Fat chance, you dork. I've got this one in the bag."  
And, after a fast-paced exchange of pounds and scratches and growls, Missy proved the truth behind her words. It only took a minute or two for Brendan's Pokemon to collapse against the muddy ground, it having run out of energy from the wounds caused by the fight. Brendan returned his Pokemon to the Poke Ball, while her Treecko lifted its hands up in celebration, then ran over to Missy's side. Missy grabbed the Pokemon tightly, then lifted it up and gave it a tight hug before dropping her back to the ground.  
"I told you my Treecko and I could handle this one."  
Brendan sighed. "That was just beginner's luck. I'll beat you next time, I swear!"  
"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, you  _loser_."  
"...let's just go back and see my dad, okay? I'm sure he'd be glad to hear that you managed to track me down and all that."  
"Don't change the subject!"  
"I'm not changing the subject! I just think we should head back to Littleroot Town before anybody gets worried about us being gone for too long!"  
"You just want to stop talking about how you lost."  
"Yeah, whatever. Let's just head back."  
Missy shook her head, but followed the boy back to her new hometown, determined to brag to his father about how she'd managed to beat his son in her first ever Pokemon battle against another Trainer.  
Indeed, the first thing she said to the professor when the two of them ran to greet him was "Brendan challenged me to a Pokemon battle, and I beat his Torchic with my Treecko!"  
Professor Birch gave her a thin smile. "Wow, good going, Missy! I could tell that you had the potential to be a great Trainer, but that's still quite impressive!"  
"She just lucked out." Brendan grumbled.  
"For a talented Trainer like yourself... I was going to keep this for my own research, but..." Professor Birch went over to his desk, retrieving a red boxy device before handing it to Missy. "Here, take this Pokedex. I have a feeling that you'll be able to use it well."  
Brendan rolled his eyes, then reached into his bag and thrust a handful of Poke Balls into the surprised teenage girl's hands, smirking as he offered his gift. "I guess you should take these Poke Balls then. You'll have to catch more Pokemon than just that Treecko if you ever want to catch up to me."  
"...alright, thanks, I guess." Missy shoved her new items into her handbag, which bulged a bit upon reception of its added contents. "I'll head out now, then. Might as well get a head start on catching more team members, right?"  
"Right."  
Missy left the lab, her hands instinctively brushing against her Poke Balls as she headed north towards the wilderness. She didn't even notice that her mother was standing outside until she called out to her.  
"I heard that you got a Pokemon from Professor Birch... Missy, are you leaving?"  
Missy stopped in her tracks and headed towards her mother's side. "Yeah, I... I think I'm going to go on my own Pokemon journey now,, explore the world, see how good of a Trainer. Maybe I couldn't do it back when I was ten, but hey, better late than never, right?" She plastered an uncomfortably big grin across her face, though she had a feeling that it wouldn't fool anybody.  
Her mother gave her a terse nod. "Yes, I think you're ready to go out on your own now. Exploring the world with your very own Pokemon... your father will be so proud of you when he finds out."  
Missy thought back to the huge shouting match that had erupted between her and her father on her tenth birthday when she had demanded that she be allowed to get her own Pokemon. Proud would... probably not be her father's main emotion when she found out about her new-found freedom. That smile was beginning to make her face ache. "I'll stop by to see him soon. And don't worry too much about me, okay? I can take of myself, Mom. I'll be just fine."  
Her mother gave her a thin grin, a reflection of Missy's own. "Thank you, dear, but... a mother always worries."  
Without warning, her mother wrapped her in a tight embrace that lingered for several long seconds before letting go. "I'll miss you... and to think, my baby's all grown up! Time flies. Keep in touch, alright?"  
Missy nodded. "Will do."  
"See you later, then... see you later. And don't forget, I love you so much, dear."  
"I love you too."  
Missy was the first to walk away from their conversation, her mind quickly focusing not on her mother but on the catching opportunities that lay in wait within every patch of tall grass that she would encounter as she went along. Now, truly, her journey was about to begin.


End file.
